


Dear Dean

by Hellraisers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Feels, Gen, Not really Wincest, Other, Plot Twist, Sad, Suicide, Suicide Notes, not like twist and shout, not what it seems, possible Wincest, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 02:09:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2049345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hellraisers/pseuds/Hellraisers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saving people. Hunting things. The family business, right? </p>
<p>Sam and Dean have died multiple times and seem to have come back to life every time. But this time? What makes this different? </p>
<p>On May 2, something clicks in Sam's mind. He can't take on weight of the world anymore. He just wants the pressure to go away. He wants the pounding in his head to cease, along with his heart... </p>
<p>Sam Winchester killed himself at 1:57am on May 3, and he didn't leave just a note. A box full of crinkled letters lie near his limp body. </p>
<p>And this is Dean reading them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Letter Box

**This is copied and pasted from my Wattpad so I apologize for any mistakes!**

 

**Third Person POV**

"Bobby? What's wrong?" Dean asks over the phone. 

"We need to meet up." Bobby's voice is soft and broken.

"Okay... but why?" 

"I can't say it over the phone. Just come to Sioux Falls." 

"Alright. You- you're not in any kind of danger are you?" Dean worries. 

"No. But this is urgent." 

"Okay. I'll be there in 9 hours or so."

Dean flips his phone shut, but not before hearing Bobby whisper, "I'm sorry." 

What could be so urgent that Bobby needed Dean over as soon as possible? And why couldn't he speak of it over the phone? Dean has gotten calls like this before, of course, but this seemed different. 

 

 

The Impala's headlights shone through the dusty curtains of Bobby's windows. Dean's boots crunch against the stones as he steps out of his car. He knocks rapidly on the front door. 

The door squeaks open, "Oh good, you're here." Bobby is quick to embrace him. 

"Woah, Bobby. What's up with the hugs and cuddles? You haven't even told me what's wrong yet." Dean pulls apart from Bobby and puts his hands on his shoulders. 

"Maybe we should sit down first." 

Dean sits down on the old sofa adjacent to the tv. Bobby opens two beers and sets one in front of Dean then stands across from him.

"Bobby, you're killing me here. What's wrong?" Dean's brow furrows. 

"It's Sam." Dean stiffens at the name. He and Sam didn't leave off on the best note. 

"Yeah, what about Sam?" Anger tints his voice. 

"He's gone." 

"Come on, Bobby. What do you mean by gone? He's been AWOL for a while!" 

"I mean he's gone, Dean. I got a call yesterday about a suicide. Sam's...suicide." 

"Who's chain are you trying to yank here? Do you think this is funny? Bobby why are you saying this?" 

Dean's eyes were glassy and his voice filled with disbelief. 

"Sam killed himself in a motel room. He took a lot of pills. The motel manager found the body and the police found my number written on a notepad."   
  
"That... _that's_ impossible. Sam would never kill himself. He would've told someone or–" 

"Dean, he's gone. I'm sorry, okay?" 

"You're  _sorry?_ Bobby, my brother's dead! He's gone! Sorry ain't helping!" Dean shouted, now standing up, towering over his uncle.

Bobby started to get angry. 

"Well what else am I supposed to say!? You're not the only one hurting here! Sam was like a son to me and you know it! Whatever you're feeling, I feel the same way so stop talking to me like I don't understand!" Bobby's cheeks were flushed red with anger. 

"Dammit!" Dean's voice booms with anger, but the tears start to spill over. He punches a hole through the wall. After tugging his hand out, he grabs the beer and smashes it against the opposite wall. He backs up against the wall and slides down to the floor.   
  
"How could this happen?" He asks with his hands on his head and head between his knees. 

Bobby reaches for a wooden box. 

"He left this for you." Bobby lays the box in front of Dean, "His note is the paper on top. I didn't open the box because it says its for you." 

Dean's chokes, his tears soaking his face and eyes a deep red.

He grabs the box, "I have to go."

"But we didn't even talk about his funeral or the fact that he doesn't have a name in the data base." Bobby reasons.

"I'll deal with it. I have to go." Dean holds the box close to him and rushes out the door.

"Dammit." Bobby says to the empty room, hoping that Dean wouldn't do anything rash.

 

\---------------------------------------------

Hey guys! Sorry that the first chapter is so short, but im posting the next chapter as soon as possible. The next chapter is about what the note on the box says. I'm breaking it up like this so it's like each chapter is a letter from Sam including Dean's actions because of each letter.

I hope you enjoy the book! The majority of the chapters from now on are going to be from Dean's POV (except the letters of course).

Also, on the side is the song that kind of sets the tone for the book. Its called "Salty Seas" by Devics.

Follow, vote, and comment for more :)

Thanks,

Hellraisers/Padahair 


	2. The Suicide Note

**TRIGGER WARNING**

**Dean's POV**

On the ride to the nearest motel, I kept glancing over at the box.

It all feels so surreal. How could my baby brother take his own life? I was supposed to watch over him. I promised dad that I would protect him... and I've failed. I feel regret and guilt pressing me because I can't help but feel that I played a large part in his suicide. When I should've been there for him, I wasn't. I was too self absorbed, trying to uphold my ego.

Now I sit on a motel bed by myself, when Sam should be on the bed next to mine.

I pick up the wrinkly note, written on a large sheet of paper from those notepads motels put next to the beds.   
  


_To Bobby and Dean_

_I'm sorry. That's all I can think to say. I'm sorry that I'm too weak to continue. For almost a year now, I've been feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. I've been feeling the guilt of all of the deaths I've caused. Every day, I can't help but think of mom, Jess, dad, and everyone else that's died in my life._

_I know not all of their deaths are my fault, but I can't help but to feel that way._

_I just want to get rid of the pounding in my head. The migraines from the lack of sleep never go away. I've tried everything._

_I want to be free. I know that there's an afterlife, so I'm hoping you two will do me the favor of giving me a hunter's funeral... because after all, I don't know if I'm going to heaven or hell. I'd rather have neither._

_I don't deserve heaven anyway. Maybe I deserve Hell._

_But Bobby, please take care of Dean. I know what I'm doing is selfish, but that's why I took the pills. I don't want you guys to see my mangled body from a gunshot wound or have someone have to find me hanging from the ceiling. I'd rather go in a way that you can remember my face, not a bloodbath._

_Thank you for being like a father to me because my own father couldn't. Thank you for supporting Dean and I throughout the Apocalypse, the demon blood, the hallucinations...the betrayal. You are more than anything that I deserve._

I flip the note over to the backside.

_Dean, you have no idea how sorry I am. I'm sorry for always letting you down; that's always been my greatest sin. I'm a shit brother and I'm sorry. I could never be the hunter that you were. I could never interact with people and understand them the way you could. Throughout the years I've lost my way and I feel reminded of that every day that I wake up and see that you're not in the motel bed across from mine._

_Every day, I wrote a letter to you. I just never had the courage to send them. So, now that I'm going, I'm going to leave all the letters I wrote here for you. I don't want you to feel like any of this is your fault, because it's not. It's my fault, and my choice to leave this world._

_Honestly, I haven't read over every single letter so maybe there are some things in there that you've never known about me. But it wont matter once I'm gone. I want you to understand wholly what I thought and why I chose to go because I'd feel even more guilty if I left you in the dark._

As the note progresses, Sam's handwriting gets sloppier. He was writing the end of this note quickly. Maybe he was eager to go...   
  


_Guys, please take care of yourselves._

_Sam Winchester_   
  


The note ends. This isn't possible. There's something off about all of this. I know I won't be able to sleep at all tonight, so I pack up my few belongings and speed off in the Impala. The motel paper said "Lawrence Motel 6," and I know exactly where that is. It's the closest motel to our childhood home. Well, my childhood.

With the lack of traffic and help of my speeding, I make the 6 hour drive to Lawrence in 3 and get there at about 6 am.

The motel lights shine on the hood of my black car,  _Lawrence Motel 6._    
  


"Hi, I'd like to get a room. Two singles." I say. I realize that out of habit I got two singles, but I don't correct myself.

"Robert Plant?" The receptionist looks at me suspiciously.

"Yup." I reply. Robert Plant was the lead singer of Led Zeppelin. He hands the card back to me and gives me the key to my room: Room 27.

"Say uh, you wouldn't happen to have a Arnel Pineda here recently, have you?" I ask.

"Like, the lead singer of Journey? No..." He responds.

"What about a Ian Kilmister?" I try again.

"Listen," He starts flipping through the records, "I don't know why your name is like Led Zeppelin or why you're asking me to look up a Motörhead singer...Ah, yeah. We had a Kilmister that checked in about 2 days ago."

"What room?"

"That's disclosed information..." He trails off, so I slide him a $20. "Room 6." He gives me the key.

"I'll be switching to this room." And I hand him the key for room 27.   
  


I insert the key into the door of room number 6.

Sam got a room with two singles also.

I start the usual investigation. I know the maids have probably cleaned this whole place twice because Sam died in here, but I want to check for sulfur, for a hex coin, for anything that will tell me that Sam wasn't Sam when he did it.

But there was no sulfur. There was no hex coin or bag. Everything was...normal. And that broke me.

I started crying again. I just can't accept the fact that Sam might've done this on his own accord. And I won't accept it. I'm going to the morgue.   
  
  
  


_I'm sorry. That's all I can think to say. I'm sorry that I'm too weak to continue._

I'm sorry Sam that I didn't see what was happening to you. That I didn't see the signs. That I abandoned you in the last months of your life.   
  
  
  


I call Bobby to find out what morgue Sam was in. They had to keep him until they could identify him.

Once I got to the Lawrence Temporary Holding Morgue, I flashed my badge and walked into the refrigeration unit. Just thinking about my brother in one of those meat lockers made me want to punch someone.

"Hi, I'm special agent Lancaster. I'm here to see one of your John Doe's." I say to the mortician.

"Alright. We have three." He starts to open each door.

"This one would be uh, about 6'4. Kind of gigantic type guy." The mortician recognizes who I mean right away and shows me the far right door. He unlatches the door and pulls out the table.

My heart stops for a second and I can feel the tears coming on.

"Are you alright Agent?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I lie.

"Did you know him? A name would be very useful."

"Yeah I knew him. His name is federal business though."

"Why are you guys interested in this John Doe anyway?"

"He was an agent too. My partner actually."

Half a lie.

"I'm sorry."

"So have you guys done an autopsy yet?" I move the cloth off of his chest a little. There are no autopsy marks.

"No. We can't do an autopsy until we have a name, but I'm pretty sure it was mostly from a drug overdose. Except for one detail..."

"How can you tell?" My voice cracks.

"Well first of all, his veins are purple and bulging. Usually when someone dies, the blood drains from the smaller veins and become less prominent. Then in his mouth," He opens up Sam's jaw, "There are signs of alcohol use which when mixed with the medicine, causes a faster death. So this was almost classified as a suicide."

"Almost?" My head was pounding. I felt like I was going to faint. "Never mind. I have to go."

"Are you sure you're okay, Agent Lancaster? You look pale."

"I'm...I really have to go. Don't let anyone move this body out of Lawrence Temporary."

I quickly make my way out of the door, but not before the mortician says, "Wait! I haven't told you about the wound in the back yet! The wound with no blood!"

But I leave before I can think to ask.

The fresh air enters my lungs and I don't feel so clenched anymore. I walk to my side of the car and sit inside. I need to focus if I'm going to find out what happened to Sam. Maybe someone forced those pills into Sam...

But the mortician didn't mention any signs of a struggle. He could've had a spell put on him or been possessed. A maid could've vacuumed up the sulfur.

Or Sam could have done it himself... but that's something I refuse to believe.

I pick up the wooden box that I kept on the passenger seat. It was a beautiful, dark brown, wooden box with a small devil's trap etched perfectly on the lid. Two latches were spaced evenly from the center of the box.

I trace the edges of the box with my fingers.

I'm going to go back to the motel and start reading the letters. I've been putting it off for too long. Maybe they'll give me some answers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-----------------------------------
> 
> HUE HUE HUE that chapter was 1581 words :D
> 
> So how do you feel about Dean going to Sam's motel room?
> 
> How do you feel about Dean not reading the letters for so long?
> 
> HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE SUICIDE NOTE? (i hope they gave you feels...and we didn't even get to the letters inside yet!)
> 
> Vote, Comment, and Follow for more!
> 
> \--also, most of you already know, but my instagram is @padahair! Feel free to follow!
> 
> <3 Hellraisers/Padahair


	3. The First Letter

_Dear Dean,_

_I don't know what exactly I'm trying to accomplish by writing this letter. I'll just write what I'm thinking I guess..._

_All I've been thinking about recently is the way we were raised. It kills me to know that I'm just some freak. I've never fit in. It's such a cliche thing to say, but there's a point where it gets too much._

_All the other guys our age go out to the bar with their friends, go to the beach, go on dates with their girlfriends._

_But what about me? What about us?_

_Mom died the year I was born, and after that, dad wasn't even present anymore. I know he tried to protect us the best he could, but missed Christmases? Birthday promises shattered? That's not what a childhood is supposed to consist of._

_Then at school, I was always the freak. Somehow, no matter how much we moved around, you always managed to be the popular guy. I rarely made any friends. The one friend I did make, killed himself later on. Even the friends I made were broken. Yeah, this sounds like something I should've moped about as a 16 year old, I know, it's pathetic._

_Honestly, I miss the feeling of being loved. I know you love me (though you never say it...), but I had plans to be_ married _. I was going to buy a house and make a family with Jess. I was going to be happy._

_And those aren't even the worst things anymore! You don't know what it was like for me. With the demon blood...with anything._

_I was so off the reservation._

_I felt powerful, and that was the problem. I felt powerful with the demon blood, and like a sore-loser junkie without it. That whole part of my life was an emotional roller coaster._

_I was naive enough to trust Ruby, but she was a friend to me. The feeling when she stabbed me in the back was just another wound added to a world of scars._

_But the_ guilt _is the worst. I'm the reason so many people are dead; I broke the last seal and freed Lucifer. Cas died, Bobby died, Jo, Ellen...Bobby and Cas may be back but it was my fault they died in the first place._ _  
_

_And I'm sure you know the feeling, but things feel...different after dying a few times. Especially with the hallucinations. Being tortured by my own mind really didn't help the weight put on me._  
  
You know, I feel so selfish writing all this. You've experienced so many things too. You've experienced loss and death... why am I event writing this? 

_I feel pathetic._

_Bye._

_Sam Winchester_


	4. The Second Letter

I put the letter down and grab the next one.   
  


_Dear Dean,_

_I don't know why I wrote that letter yesterday, because I didn't even send it. I don't know why I'm trying again, either._

_After I wrote that letter, I saw something on the news about a man murdered in his home with no signs of forced entry and no tripped alarms. Weird, right? It sounded like our kind of deal, so I checked it out to get my mind off things._

_It was the typical spirit of an angry loved one story, so I got rid of the spirit. But the woman of the man asked me something I'll never forget._

_"What is there left to live for when you don't even feel alive?" She asked._

_"I wish I knew." Was all I could say. Now that I think back on it, I probably should've offered her some words of comfort or something._

_But I started thinking about that time you took me to that field on the Fourth of July, 1996. So that's where I went today. Dad wasn't there to give us a real Fourth of July celebration, so you bought a whole box full off fireworks. I remember dancing around in the sparks... Then we basically burned the whole field._

At this point, I have to put the letter down and take a moment. I'm going to go to that field. It only feels right.

I check out of the motel and put my keys in the ignition.

Half an hour later, Bon Jovi's  _Wanted Dead or Alive_  comes on. I smile and look to the passenger seat, but the smile doesn't last. Sammy isn't here to sing one of his favorite songs. I can remember singing along with him and he would laugh his stupid laugh as I sing the guitar part out loud.

When I finally arrive at the field, I stand in the middle where we put the fireworks.

The sun was bright and wispy white clouds drifted in the sky. A light breeze bristled the grass and sent a shiver up my spine.

It was like the weather was reflecting the good memories.

Breathing in the cool air helped calm me down. I still can't grasp the fact that Sam is gone.

"But he doesn't have to be." I say.   
  
  
  


I light the three candles on the chalk sigils I drew on the dungeon floor. After visiting the field, I deciding on finally visiting the bunker again.

I say the incantation, "Et ad congregandum...eos coram me."

"Hello boy- Dean. How may I be of service to you?" He says somewhat sarcastic, somewhat irritated. "And make it good, because I was in the middle of the new Captain America movie."

"I need you to bring Sam back."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Sam's gone, and I want him back."

"I'm sorry, but I didn't realize Sam was gone. His soul hasn't passed through my territory, or else I would know."

"Well I need you to bring him back." I plead.

"Dean, as much as I would enjoy collecting your soul, I don't know where Sam's is."

"That's impossible. You can't bring him back from heaven? That's the only other place right?"

"Sorry squirrel, rules have changed."

And just like that, Crowley's gone.   
  


What the hell?

Why can't Crowley find Sam's soul?

At least now I know he's not suffering in Hell... But why can't Crowley check heaven?

The only person I have to ask now is Cas. The problem is that Cas barely answers my prayers any more because of his quest to clean up heaven.

But hey, it's worth a try.

 

 

 _Castiel,_ I begin to pray,  _I need your help. I don't know if you've been checking in or anything, but Sam's gone. He took his own life. I tried to get Crowley to bring him back, but he couldn't. He said he couldn't_ find  _Sam's soul. So please, Cas. Come down here and talk to me...or at least keep an eye out for Sam?_

 _  
_I look around the room. I kind of knew Cas wouldn't come, but it was worth the try...

Something's bothering me. Everything about this situation is bothering me. But what was it? 

 

I should probably get some sleep. I haven't really slept since Bobby told me about Sam yesterday. It's nearing midnight anyway. If Bobby were here, he'd probably slap me upside the head for investigating Sam's suicide like it was one of our cases...but work is the only thing I can do to cope with the fact that my baby brother's gone. 

 

Even in my bed, something was bothering me. Was is Sam's lifeless body in the morgue? His purple veins? The fact that he took his own life? 

 

No. It was what the mortician said. 

 

_"...it was mostly from a drug overdose. Except for one detail..."_

_"So this was_ almost _classified as a suicide."_

_"Wait! I haven't told you about the wound in the back yet! The wound with no blood!"_

 

I was too busy holding down the bile that was climbing up my throat in order to notice the weight of those words. Sam had a wound in his back, but there wasn't any blood. For that reason, Sam's death was  _almost_  a suicide. 

I can wait until morning and talk to the mortician or I can look for myself. I'm definitely not getting any sleep...

 

 

I pick the lock to the front door, and I'm home free! It's about 2 am so as long as I'm out of here within a few hours, I'm safe. 

I push the door open to the refrigeration room. I unlatch the door to Sammy's unit and pull it open, making a loud suction noise. The wheels of the table whir as I pull it out. 

"What the hell..." 

Sammy's body is gone. I grab the paper that was posted on the unit door. 

 _Sent off to be cremated?_ I told that mortician that Sam wasn't to be moved! That's it... It's all over unless Cas can find Sam's soul. Even then, what body would Sam come back to? Maybe Cas can use his hoodoo to put Sam back together again like he did with me... just more extreme. 

I sit in the Impala with the box next to me yet again. It stares at me menacingly, as if to taunt me of my brother's death... 

I take out the second letter again to finish it. 

_That Fourth of July was one of the best days of my life. Makes me think about how lucky I am to have you as a brother. Kind of wish we could get back on the right track._

_But that's how it's always been. You taking care of me even when dad couldn't._ _So I sat in that field with a beer in my hand, wishing that you would've been there to share one._

_Wow, am I being a sap! But my perspective on life has changed and that's caused me to value things that I didn't appreciate as much before. I'm almost positive that if I were to visit heaven again, I wouldn't be sitting at that dinner table with the girl I liked or in the trailer that I stayed in for two weeks._

_Now I believe that we would probably share the same heaven._

_But enough of that. I should sleep._

_Bye,_

_Sam Winchester._

 

"Dammit," I say aloud, clenching the note in my hand. I squeeze my eyes shut and a few tears slip out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okayy that may not have been the best two chapters in the world.... 1.3k words for this chapter is good enough...right? D:
> 
> Comment what you think of all this! 
> 
> Vote, comment, and follow for more! 
> 
> Instagram: @padahair
> 
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Hellraisers


	5. Letters 3 & 4

I ended up buying out motel room 6 for a week. I expect to stay in the area... and if not, I don't want anyone in Sammy's room. 

Yeah, I kind of claimed it as Sammy's room. He cried here, he wrote his last note here, he died here. 

Yet I don't really want to connect Sammy to some hotel room. I wouldn't have to if we had a real home. But home for me is wherever Sammy is... and he's dead.

No matter how much I tell myself that Sammy's gone, I can't help but feel that something strange is going on! 

Meanwhile, I might as well read the next letter. 

 

_Dear Dean,_

_I know I never send these letters, but you know what? I find it kind of nice to write them._

_I searched the local databases for 'freaky accidents.' I've been burying myself in my work lately it seems. There's really nothing else to do when I have no one to share a beer with._

_Guess I'm finally feeling the effect of all of our friends being dead. I think a visit to Bobby's is due. I'll do that today._

_Sorry for the short letter, but I'm gunna go to Bobby's. Maybe I'll write some more later._

_Bye,_

_Sam Winchester_

 

**_Next Letter_ **

 

_Dear Dean,_

_I visited Bobby._

_To say the least, it was okay._

_It was fine until Bobby mentioned that he was upset that we weren't in contact any more. Me and you, I mean._

_"Goddammit, boy. Why can't you and Dean get over your baby issues? You all are better than this. I can't believe you'd let some little feud get between the two of ya'." He said._

_"Bobby, I've tried calling him and he doesn't answer. It's not my fault if he doesn't want to work it out."_

_"Or maybe you're still angry too and not tryin' hard enough!"_

_"Believe me, I've tried reaching out to him. He's too stubborn to even talk to me!"_

_"Well let's fix that."_

_I'm sure you_ kind of _know what happened after that. Bobby suggested that he call you and pass off the phone to me._

_"Hey, Bobby," I could hear your gruff voice without speakerphone. "What do you need?"_

_"Oh I just wanted to pass the phone off to a friend who needs some help."_

_"Okay..." You said hesitantly. Bobby hands me the phone._

_"Hey–" I start, but for some reason I was nervous! I was nervous to talk to my own brother! I quickly passed the phone back. "I can't do it."_

_"What? Just talk to him!" Bobby covers the microphone. "He's your brother. If you don't make up, what are you gunna do? Work yourself to death?"_  
  
"Bobby, I'm fine."   
  
"Well you sure dont look fine! You look sleep deprivated and look like you haven't shaved in a week."   
  
"So what if I haven't?" 

_"Guys, I– I can hear you." You say from the phone._

_"Oops." Bobby says, so I leave the room. I could hear you and Bobby arguing over the phone so I took the opportunity to leave. I have no idea what you said afterwards, but you probably were dissapointed to hear my voice._

Is he joking? I remember that day clearly; hearing Sam's voice was anything but a dissapointment... I felt relieved that he was alive. I felt good that he was talking to Bobby...

But most of all, I felt confused. I was vaguely upset, but I felt a spark of joy when I heard the voice of my baby brother on the other end of the line. 

"I can't do it." You said. You can't talk to me?

In your defense, I was being an asshole. Ignoring your calls like that was just childish. But after hearing your voice for that short period of time, I had the urge to call you every day.

I would find myself working a hard case, and reaching for the phone to give you the low-down, only to remember that I turned you away. And now the guilt is eating away at me. 

_It's okay that you probably didn't want to talk to me. For a long time I felt the same way._

_It was starting to feel like we weren't brothers anymore._

Don't say that, Sammy. 

_But of course we were. We'll always be brothers._

_After Bobby's I decided to visit the local bar._

_The dusty leather seats and vinyl records sitting in the corner reminded me of one of your favorite lines, "Smell that? Authenticity."_

_Basically by the end of the night, I was piss drunk and ranting about my problems to some bartender. I'm sure she offered some great advice...If only I could remember it. I mean, now, I'm sober enough to have grabbed a taxi to a motel and sober enough to finish this letter._

_I think I'll sleep now._

_Bye,_

_Sam Winchester_

It was strangely nice to think that Sammy thought of me so much, especially enough to write these letters. 

Yet I found myself thinking about Sammy when little things reminded me of him. I guess it's normal to think about the guy who has been with me from the start. The one who has lived through the same things I have and lost the same  _people_  I have. The one who could understand me more than anyone: My brother. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm. Chapter that's shorter than I wanted, but there was nothing that was supposed to really happen here. 
> 
> Also, I think I'm going to post this story on Ao3... Does that sound like a good idea? I'm unsure so :/
> 
> Anyway, vote, comment, and follow for more!
> 
> It would mean a lot to me if you guys shared this fic with your friends :) 
> 
> thank you!
> 
> ~Hellraisers/Padahair


	6. Letters 05 & 06

_Dear Dean,_

_Remember back in 2009 when Zach sent you to the future?_

_I was just thinking about how you said you cried when you saw me as the devil himself. It's been a long time since then._

_I find myself recalling random moments of our lives together. I wonder if you do too._

_Goodbye,_

_Sam Winchester_

 

Sometimes Sam puzzles me with how short some of his letters are compared to the others. Why was this one so short? I'll just read the next one. 

 

_Dear Dean,_

_I hate you. How could you make this so tough for me? You know what I'm talking about._

 

What is he talking about? 

 

_Today, I was at a Gas n' Sip in Wyoming. I was buying some food for the road and when I turned around, you were at the counter buying beer._

_I walked up behind you and said, "Dean?"_

_You turned your head quickly towards me, "Sammy... What are you doing here?"_   
  


_"Investigating. You?"_

_"Same thing. Doing the job." You replied as you payed, grabbed the beer, and swiftly walked towards the door._

_"It's good to see you." I say as the bell over the door jingles. We walked all the way to your car before you responded. You put the beer on top of the car and rested your hands on the car frame._

_"Sam, what are you doing?"_

_"Making conversation... It's been_ weeks  _since I've seen you."_

 _"Well, listen. It's good to see you, but_ we  _aren't a thing anymore. We don't work together anymore." And that's when I lost faith in you._

_"I– I mean I thought–"_

_"Thought what, Sammy? We're have nothing to talk about."_  
  
"Since when is there nothing to talk about!?" 

_"Since you went behind my back and had another fling with a demon!" He yelled, poking at my chest._

_People nearby were starting to look, so I lowered my voice, "It wasn't like that."_

_"Oh, it wasn't like that?" He copies with sarcasm._

_"No! I didn't know she was a demon! Honest!"_

_"Even if you didn't know, you were so distracted by that girl that you got people killed. That family was relying on us to get rid of the ghosts in their house, remember, the really_ angry  _ghosts? There was a baby and a little girl that died because you weren't there when I needed you!"_

_"I know, I'm sorry–"_

_"Well sorry ain't gonna bring those kids back!" He interrupts._

_"I know, Dean. Just let me talk!" I begged._

_"No, I'm done. I'm done with this. You're– you're not my brother anymore. I don't know who you are but you sure ain't him."  Then you got into the Impala and sped away, leaving me in the dust._

_I tried to apologize, okay? I tried to explain that I didn't know that Petra was a demon. I tried to explain that she tried to drain my blood from my body in order to find out where you were. She wanted to_ kill  _me and you for killing some demon relative of hers. I was trying to protect you, and now I've tried to apologize, but it's obvious I can't get through to you._

 

Oh, Sammy. I'm sorry. I didn't know what Petra did to you. I should've known that you were just trying to protect us. I remember holding that little girl's limp body in my arms, but it was nothing to blame on you. Now, I blame myself for not being able to get rid of those ghosts myself. 

When I heard you say my name at that Gas n' Sip, I was ecstatic. I'm not sure what came over me afterwards. My pride? My ego? It made me act like a total douche. 

I made everything a bigger deal than it had to be... 

 

 _Sometimes I wish you would just_  listen.

_Or whatever._

_Bye,_

_Sam Winchester_

 

I'm sorry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO! sorry for the short chapter... was that chapter bad or sad? :/
> 
> Anyweyhey another chapter should be up soon. This one was to explain why Sam and Dean split up. Next chapter will be Dean investigating Sam's death more.
> 
> Vote, comment, and follow for more! 
> 
> <3 Hellraisers


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